This Indigested Vomit Of The Sea,fell To

Thus, Though We Cannot Make Our Sun Stand Still, Yet We Will Make Him Run

Had We But World Enough, And Time, This Coyness, Lady, Were No Crime.

Twas Beyond A Mortal's Share To Wander Solitary There: Two Paradises 'twere In One To Live In Paradise Alone.

Like The Vain Curlings Of The Watery Maze, Which In Smooth Streams A Sinking Weight Does Raise, So Man, Declining Always, Disappears In The Weak Circles Of Increasing Years; And His Short Tumults Of Themselves Compose, While Flowing Time Above His Head Does Close.

And All The Way, To Guide Their Chime, With Falling Oars They Kept Their Time.